


Sins of the Flesh

by rosedarkling



Category: Deep-Sea Prisoner, Mogeko, Okegom, funamusea, 海底囚人, 海底囚人 | Deep-Sea Prisoner, 灰色庭園 | Haiiro Teien | The Gray Garden
Genre: Masturbation, Other, Parent/Child Incest, Sexual Fantasy, somewhat wholesome moment at the end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-18 08:22:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28864002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosedarkling/pseuds/rosedarkling
Summary: Licorice sees something that he shouldn't, only to ignite current desires and memories of past sins.
Relationships: Ivlis/Licorice (Gray Garden), Ivlis/Satanick (Gray Garden)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 25





	Sins of the Flesh

**Author's Note:**

> I have had this idea for a while, and slowly but surely it has become a reality. Shoutout to DSP for that one tweet from months ago about Licorice, Ayers for helping inspire the concept during our chats, and Starry for the thread where Licorice turns into a child upset after having done things to Mother. All of these lovely, lovely creators inspired this amalgamation. So I hope you all enjoy. ;)

“Ahh, ahh.”

Light, gasping moans slipped past the young man’s lips so effortlessly that he found it hard to control. What had started off as a silent yet sinful evening was now beginning to become peppered with the occasional groans that Licorice was desperately trying to keep under wraps; he did not want anyone – especially Mother – to find him in such a precarious position.

Yes, Mother…. That’s the very reason he was in this mess to begin with….

….

The night had started off as normal as any other. Licorice quietly slipped out of his bedroom to begin to make his way to Ivlis’s. Typically in his child form, Licorice had been tucked into bed by Ivlis half an hour earlier, yet the restless boy soon decided that enough time had passed. His usual routine was to head out of his room and to sleep alongside Mama. Occasionally he would have scary dreams that would have him coming to Ivlis, asking if he could sleep beside him. Of course, Ivlis always obliged, even if he was a bit tired or disgruntled. Licorice always appreciated that about his dear mother – even if he was a bit disturbed by his son constantly coming to sleep with him every night, Ivlis still allowed it to happen. In fact, the child liked to think that with him around he could help stave off Mama’s own nightmares like he had one evening when he had noticed Mama crying.

Now that this system was established almost every night, Licorice looked forward to nighttime so he could spend it with Mama. It was a personal, private time that he could appreciate cuddled alongside his most treasured person. Even without scary dreams to edge him on, Licorice quickly slipped out from underneath his large, white covers to begin his nightly voyage down the long hallway. With a perfectly square pillow in hand, the bright-eyed child slipped on his dark gray slippers that matched his plaid nightgown.

Nothing had alerted Licorice that tonight would be different than any other, as he shuffled down the hallway, clutching his pillow to his chest. He was quite sleepy, but inside he always felt excitement to see his mother. Most of the day Ivlis was off on errands with ruling the Flame Underworld; being the lead devil over an entire realm must be difficult. Licorice did not quite understand all the ins-and-outs of such a prestigious duty, but he could only imagine Mother must be stressed. Some days he looked so downtrodden and exhausted. Licorice wondered if he should perhaps learn how to help with such things, but he simply enjoyed remaining in his child form. Life was much more pleasant like this. Besides, being in this form appeared to be a bit better on Ivlis’s behalf. He had changed into his adult form before while in bed. Licorice did not quite understand why it made Ivlis a bit uncomfortable to lie next to him like this – he was the same person, after all – yet in some ways, he could understand if ever so slightly….

The closer he got towards Ivlis’s room, Licorice could hear slight noises coming from inside. His orange-yellow eyes that closely resembled his mother’s widened slightly at this, worried that Ivlis was having another nightmare. Internally, Licorice determined that he would help Mama fight this off; he would tuck Ivlis in the best he could just like Mama had done for him. Slowing his steps down, Licorice slowed down as he approached the slightly open wooden door.

Wait? Slightly open? Mama typically kept the door closed, leaving the boy needing to knock and await his mother’s permission to enter.

“S – Sa… ta….”

What was Mother saying? Was he having a bad dream to the point he was speaking aloud? Licorice’s heart ached at that thought. _Don’t worry, Mama,_ he thought. _I’ll help you._

Raising his tiny right hand to push open the door, Licorice heard another voice mingling with Ivlis’s groans. That familiar chuckle…. Licorice knew it all too well….

Papa was with Mama, wasn’t he?

A bit of anger began to rise inside Licorice’s little body, and his golden eyes narrowed a bit. What was Papa doing here? Was he hurting Mama again? Licorice did not like when Papa was around Mama; he was always taking Mother’s attention away from this world and from him. What he disliked even more was when Satanick would become too “handsy” with Ivlis. Did Papa not really not notice how uncomfortable it made Mama? Whatever the case was, Licorice would not tolerate it.

Whenever Licorice’s emotions began to heighten, he transformed into his adult form. Today was no different; the boy with the short black hair soon naturally grew into his other stage in a matter of milliseconds. His purplish-red, somewhat short horns extended as did his locks into a long ponytail that resembled his mother’s in length but his father’s in color. Placing his right hand on the door frame – the pillow now clenched in his left fist – Licorice debated if he should barge in and stop this nonsense - whatever it may be. He should be entitled to see what the true cause of this interruption was to his common evening.

Tilting his head a bit to properly get a view inside the room, the boy did not first see anything except the dimness of the room, light illuminating only through the small crack of the door and sheer blinds covering Ivlis’s bed room window. It was fairly dark all the time in this world, so only when the bright, red moon would come out would there be some illumination among the flames of this world. However, as soon as Licorice’s eyes focused on the silhouettes of the bedroom furniture, that's when he finally saw it…. It was all the young man could do to hold back his gasp as he immediately knew what he was seeing.

Both of his parents were having sex.

Licorice’s first reaction was anger, as he saw Satanick was hovering atop Ivlis – this was the typical position that would indicate Father was forcing himself upon Mother, and that was something Licorice would not stand. He had told Mother before that he needed to be more up front with Father if he did not like something; Mother was too kind to ever say something or fight back. Well, he supposed he had been a bit more vocal these days. Still, not nearly enough if Satanick was here once more hurting Ivlis.

Ready to put a stop to this, Licorice found himself pausing as he continued listening to the noises filtering through the crack in the door. Mother did not sound in pain. In fact, he sounded… happy? Was that right? Licorice held his breath as he continued to stare at something taboo. Logically, he knew that this was highly inappropriate to be doing – to be spying on two people having intercourse. Yet… he could not look away.

Mother was truly beautiful.

Licorice could feel his cheeks becoming warm as he focused on Ivlis. Mother was completely nude from what Licorice could see as he lie supine among his bed sheets. His long hair was splayed out around him, his own golden eyes scrunched shut as his mouth hung open as he gasped for air. Father was shirtless while he still retained his dark pants. Despite that, Licorice knew what was occurring as he watched Satanick slam his hips rhythmically in between Ivlis’s spread legs. It was still too dim to fully see every detail, but Licorice knew all too well the little intricacies of what was happening. Right now, both of them were meshed deeply together, and the pace was fast enough for Licorice to figure out that the smell of musk was prevalent in the air. Sweat was most likely beaded on Ivlis’s forehead and body. His cheeks were probably deep pink by now. Even with Satanick’s body melded onto his at the pelvis, the faint outline of Ivlis’s erection could be seen as it poked upwards onto his thin, pale stomach.

All too well, Licorice could recall and imagine these little yet oh-so-important details of how Mother looked in the throes of pleasure. After all, he had seen this firsthand when he had been the one to be atop of Mother in the past….

That reminder was enough to make Licorice feel disgusted and pained all over again. How could he have done such a thing to the one most precious to him?! He had ran off to cower and cry underneath his own bed sheets at what he had done; a few moments of pleasure had only caused him to regret giving in to temptation that night. Foolish! Filthy!

Before his eyes, it was occurring once more – though this time, Father was the one doling out the waves of pleasure to Mother. 

No. No! _Not Father_ , Licorice internally yelled within himself. Father would only hurt Mother in the end. Granted, their relationship seemed to have been improving over each of the frequent times Father had been coming around, yet Licorice could not help but disapprove of such a thing. Deep inside, he knew that he was the son – a byproduct of his parent’s lovemaking; the fruit of their love. Was he entitled to such an opinion to disagree with Mother’s choice of sexual partner? The young man was all too used to this war that waged inside of him – the desire to halt Father’s advancements on Mother, and… the secret jealousy he felt.

Releasing his hand off of the door frame, Licorice grasped at the collar of his white dress shirt. It certainly was convenient that when he transformed his clothes would change alongside him to whatever he had last worn in that form. He noticed that his breathing had become a bit more erratic as he watched this sickening yet fascinating display before his prying eyes. It was sickening to him that he was watching such a thing; disgusting that he could see and hear Father whispering sweet-nothings down into Mother’s ear while he thrust into him. However, in some way, Licorice could not tear his gaze away, especially seeing Mother so… lively. The way he squirmed among the sheets, the way his claw-like fingers dug into the sheets and then onto Satanick’s shoulders, the way he panted and pleaded for more….

Why? Why did it have to be Father?

_If only…. If only that was me…._

Licorice could not control it any longer; he knew what his flesh was craving, yet his mind warned him that interrupting such a private moment would do no good. In fact, it would most likely cause more harm to the already fragile state of Mother; he would never dare dream of harming Mother’s pride like that.

Still, his own hitched breath that threatened to slip past his lips, the tingling that had been traveling down his spine, into his legs, and into his loins – it all spelled out a clear message on what Licorice needed to be doing at this moment.

As quietly yet quickly as he could, Licorice slid away from the moaning and groaning of his parent’s coitus to return back to his room. He was thankful that he remained in bare feet so his steps would be a bit more subdued on the hallway flooring. Even walking down the somewhat short distance back to his private quarters felt as long as it had in his child form despite his ability to now walk much quicker. After what felt like eons, Licorice managed to make it back to his room, softly closing it behind him. He pressed his back against the wood. Pillow still desperately clutched in his left hand, the young man leaned his head back against the supporting object as he raised his free hand to splay his fingers across his face, as if to hide his shame. Cover it he might, but he knew that nobody would be around to see his sinful desires taking place.

Licorice opened his mouth wide as he began to pant, images of his parents humping still flashing across his mind. His pupils dilated in the darkness of his room and from seeing something so taboo, Licorice could feel the heat radiating off of his red cheeks. His breath was so hot as he breathed out against the palm of his hand; trying to somewhat stifle this was only making it harder.

Ah…. Harder….

The boy was not unfamiliar with this sensation; he had experienced it before, after all. The tightening in his pants; the tingling and craving; the heat that was almost tangible….

He had to take care of this. The discomfort and desire raged inside of him in a cacophony of emotions that begged him to get rid of this. A primal part of the demon longed to prolong this feeling – to make it last as long as possible – while the more rational side of him begged to finish the job so he would not have to suffer in silence with these pent up feelings.

Practically tossing the tightly gripped pillow to his side, Licorice made his way to his bed. As quickly as he could muster, he climbed onto his somewhat crumpled sheets and flopped backwards among the softness of the blankets. One would imagine that lying down could have helped the young demon fall back asleep with such comforts, yet lying down only caused the boy to feel that growing tightness in his loins as it begged for release. Panting, Licorice found himself trailing his right hand down from his grip on his collar. Down, down, down he trailed his black-painted fingertips over his dress shirt, feeling the slight shudders across his being from just his own fingertips.

No, he was not fascinated by his own touch. What he was really fascinated by was what he was still imagining in his mind. As much as it pained him to recall Satanick atop of Ivlis, he could not help but find it desirable. Once before, he had been in Father’s spot, though he had never quite made it far enough to penetrate Mother. It filled him with ire to picture Satanick’s grinning and pleased smirk as he thrust into Ivlis, yet....

 _What if it was me?_ Licorice thought. Instead of Father, what if he was the one servicing Ivlis….? Closing his eyes, Licorice tried to focus his thoughts on secret fantasies that had now begun to form in his mind. He needed to focus; purely concentrate on thoughts of Mother and what his body looked like.

Thoughts of his mother’s red-tipped, long locks trailing over his bare shoulders….

Thoughts of his mother’s sleeping face….

Thoughts of Mother’s blushing cheeks ….

Thoughts of the soft, supple thighs of this man that had birthed him….

Licorice was already feeling his loins beginning to burn while simultaneously producing an ache. Bits of lightning felt like it was sparking all over his being – down his spine, over his groin, and straight into his legs. Thankfully, he was supine so he would not tumble down had he been standing or kneeling. 

More.

Licorice wanted more.

Licorice found his right hand fumbling with his belt, button, and zipper holding his black pants up. His free left hand was now up near his collarbone, undoing the buttons on his shirt to open it up. His skin was starting to warm up while his breathing became ragged. Inexperienced he might be, yet even this young demon by many standards knew what sex felt like. He knew what it felt like to desire someone so deeply; what it felt like to crave with all of his heart, mind, and body for something – for someone.

A tiny voice inside of him echoed that perhaps this was not the wisest decision. Almost like a warning, it cried out to him in such a small tone that was barely audible. Would giving in to these desires only make him crave Mother more? Would a few moments of sinful pleasures of the flesh be a harbinger of cyclical cravings? The little voice did have a point for it being so low and meek….

 _Shut up,_ Licorice reprimanded himself.

This was not what he wanted right now. He did not ask for his conscious to berate him and cry out like a scared little boy. No; what he longed for was to fulfill this craving. His body was screaming, drowning out that little tone.

“Ahh,” Licorice found himself huffing out as he was able to release the hold his belt and zipper had on him. With the simple motion of his erection rising behind his black boxers, Licorice found his hand and fingers touching himself. “Mmm,” Licorice moaned out, finding himself squirming on the bed sheets, further mussing up the pure white sheets. Right now, that did not matter to him. All that mattered was what he was feeling burning in his loins. Somehow – someway – he had to cool this fire down.

As his fingers brushed against his ever growing bulge, Licorice could see in the forefront of his mind the one person that had brought this desire upon him. “Mother,” Licorice breathed out, reminding himself of that night that he had given in to pleasure. Hovering over him on all fours, Licorice recalled how he had felt the soft, silky strands of Ivlis’s hair through his fingers as he pressed his mouth over his. How his tongue slipped past those sleeping lips to mingle with his own.

So soft. So warm.

Licorice found his mouth craving Ivlis’s against his; to have Ivlis return the kiss and not simply lie there in sleep with saliva trailing down his chin. The insatiable desire to see Ivlis squirming underneath him as he had been with Satanick was too much to bear. “Ahhh, ahhh,” Licorice moaned even more, imaging Ivlis actually kissing him back. To have that warm, moist, beautiful mouth on him would be pure bliss.

His shirt now fully opened and his pants undone, Licorice found himself gripping the covers near his left hip as his right hand now slipped underneath the veil of his silk black boxers.

What a pure delight it would be to pleasure Mother the way Father was right now. What true bliss it would be to be the one atop of Ivlis once more. The thought alone made Licorice writhe again as his mouth hung open. Gently yet firmly gripping the base of his oh-so-tender erection, Licorice instinctively felt his hips buck upwards at the air.

Ah…. Even better….

What if there was no open space above him...? What would it be like to have Mother take control…?

….

_Ivlis stared down at Licorice with those golden-yellow eyes of his, a tiny smirk across his lips. The long strands of hair that framed his face hung down in front of him as his long ponytail draped across his back and over his right shoulder blade. From what Licorice could see, Ivlis appeared to be bare except for a dark pair of pants still on him. To even stare at his Mother’s scarred yet smooth skin was a work of art. He should not be seeing something so lovely such as this. Licorice expectantly stared up at Ivlis, pleading with his eyes for more of his touch, more of his mouth – more of him in general._

_Licorice opened his mouth to begin pleading with his voice, only for Ivlis to place his right index finger – well, claw – over his lips. Ivlis cocked his eyebrows down at the vulnerable young man, a gleam in his eyes as he lowered his bare chest down onto his. He removed his finger to now replace it with his mouth to begin tenderly yet roughly kissing Licorice. Licorice immediately began moaning at this, wriggling around underneath his mother. He shut his eyes to heighten the experience – to singularly focus on the kisses. Soft and warm; gentle yet firm – what an insatiable feeling! Licorice felt as if he could drown in this sensation. The wet smacking of their mouths together had the young man’s face heating up, along with the rest of his body. Sparks were already beginning to spread their way over every nerve, each shockwave sending Licorice squirming for more as his hands gripped the sheets underneath him._

_“What’s wrong, Licorice?”_

_With pupils dilated, the boy steadily cracked open his eyes when he no longer felt the warm, moist mouth of Mother on him. Glassy-eyed golden orbs stared up into ones that looked so similar to his own; it was like looking into a mirror. How he loved that his eyes could match someone’s so beautiful such as these!_

_Mother was offering another smirk down at him, a conniving expression across his lips. Licorice could see that the red tips of his mother’s dark gray hair were beginning to fade into a bright orange glow. That only further brought another wave of desire crashing over Licorice that threatened to drown him. This color was only reserved when Ivlis was highly emotional. Now, he was seeing it first-hand from such an easy act like kissing. Mother was feeling the same way he was…._

_Licorice once more went to open his mouth, only to once more stop mid-breath as it hitched in his throat. Ivlis was now beginning to trail his hands down the length of Licorice’s torso. The tips of his Mother’s scaled fingers raked deliciously across his tender flesh, and the boy could not help but buck his hips upwards. Even with the barrier of pants between them, Licorice audibly groaned when he felt his pelvis meeting Ivlis’s. He was already hard, so the sensation of pushing upwards to meet Ivlis’s own erection left Licorice feeling a sweet pain. His member was begging for a release._

_Ivlis must have noticed this, too, as he himself let out a light moan through parted lips. Another grin spread across his features as his traveling claws now reached the top of Licorice’s pants. The young man’s mouth gaped open as he gasped for air. W – Was this really happening? It all felt so surreal. The sheer excitement of such a moment was enough to make him pass out from lack of oxygen, as he felt he could not even get enough air into his lungs. His mouth hung open as he gasped like a fish out of water. A chuckle from Mother once more drove a tingle down his spine seeing Ivlis grow amused from his son’s visible distress._

_“Let me help you, Licorice.”_

_With barely any time to prepare himself mentally, physically, or emotionally, Licorice finally was able to choke out a high-pitched squeak as Ivlis’s right hand dipped underneath the protective layer of both his pants and boxers. Those warm fingers wrapped around his hot, throbbing cock. Those scales were perfect to send just the right amount of sweet discomfort to his already stimulated member. Licorice could only grip onto the sheets for dear life as he tried to keep his body still to allow Ivlis to do to him what he wanted, yet it was so difficult to keep immobile. To remain steady while simultaneously wanting to grind and pump upwards was too much to bear! Pinpricks of tears began to form at the corners of Licorice’s eyes as he tightly squeezed them shut. He dare not cry; not now! However, this moment was so pure – so raw. A dream come true he could not help but feel twinges of joy and melancholy pierce through his heart and straight into his loins. He had longed for this moment for so, so long. To finally have it occur - well, it was truly emotional. His pelvis burned and churned the more he felt Ivlis begin to steadily stroke him, teasing the tip of his dick with an occasional flick of his thumb._

_“M – Mother!” Licorice found himself screaming out, his voice cracking with tears of painful pleasure. It hurt to be fiddled with, but it was so tantalizingly sweet at the same time; the release that was building would surely be glorious. “Mother! Mother!” Each cry escalated in intensity the more that Ivlis tightened his grip as he tugged on the highly sensitive member. He dare not open his eyes. As much as he desired to see the face of his mother as he stroked him, Licorice couldn’t bring himself to do such a thing while being on fire._

_The fire was spreading – up through his pelvis, into his stomach, trailing to his reddened and gasping face, and into his brain. Would it explode? Would it melt? Either option would be acceptable at this stage._

_He couldn’t bear it any longer!_

_“Mother!”_

_…._

Licorice found himself arching his back as his hips bucked upwards into the open air above him. Every muscle and nerve had tensed up and fired in response to his release. Bolts of lightning radiated throughout his legs as his heels and shoulder blades dug into the soft mattress beneath him. Thunder pounded in his brain as his heart hammered against his ribcage. Thankfully, his head had not exploded like he imagined it would, yet something had surely melted – he could feel a warm, sticky sensation flooding his nether region.

As Licorice huffed desperately for fresh air – his tongue hanging out dripping with saliva – the strength began to fade from his legs. His feet slowly slid from underneath him, and he found himself once more making contact with the sweet comfort of his bed. Cracking his eyes open, hot tears slipped past his long, dark eyelashes as he regained his thoughts. His rolled his head slightly to the right, allowing them to trail over the bridge of his nose, mingling with beads of sweat.

Just what… had happened?

Rotating his head back to the center, Licorice could clearly see that Mother was nowhere to be found. Licorice had imagined that whole scenario, hadn’t he? He knew that to be the case, yet he still could not help but find it disappointing that it was only in his fantasies that Mother would touch him so erotically. A true shame, if he had to honestly say so. Still, the softening phallus that beat out its final twitches was proof enough that the vivid imagery was more than enough to have sufficed.

Lowering his chin even further, Licorice could see his right hand still tucked underneath his boxers. Releasing his cramped hand from his cock, he slid his hand out from behind the protective veil. It slid out with a slight squelching noise, and the white coating that dripped over his fingers was proof enough that he had came. Pinching the waistband to steadily lift it up, his expectations were met – he had indeed melted. Sticky, lukewarm cum was plastered across the inside of the black undergarment, quite noticeable with its contrasting color and texture. It was ever-so-slowly drying, yet it was quite messy and wet now that he could see it across his pelvis.

As he allowed his hand to release his hold on the waistband, the young man lie there in silence. His right arm slipped down to lie next to his hip, the tight muscles finally relaxing. As his tension began to fade away into a warm tiredness, Licorice began to feel a slight niggling inside his chest. Yes, the warmth was still there, but a slight twinge of discomfort began to echo every few seconds. In a strange way, he began to feel… sad.

Breathing through his parted lips, Licorice closed his mouth as he felt a frown starting to form. Why? Why was he feeling… guilty? All he had wanted was to feel closer to his mother. All he longed for was to experience a release of these growing feelings. Surely that wasn’t a crime, was it? He hadn’t done anything wrong, right?

 _Not now you didn’t,_ he found himself telling himself. _But you did before._

Once more, a flash of that one fateful evening popped up in his mind; touching, kissing, and licking at Mother’s body. The shame he had felt shortly after when Ivlis had mumbled out for Satanick to stop….

_No better. I’m… still no better…._

No! No, he was different than Father, and tonight was certainly not the same as that long ago evening.

Licorice told himself that, yet he could not shake the feeling that he was once more to blame. His jaw began to ache as he became lost in these cyclical thoughts, his teeth starting to clench and his eyes starting to burn. As the nagging began to gnaw at his heart with sharp little teeth, he placed his right hand over his heart, hoping to soothe it. However, his sticky, now-cold hand on his bare chest was only another painful reminder that he was just as much at fault currently as he had been previously. Yes, he had not physically done anything to Mother, but was that any excuse fantasizing about him? Father was being more loving to Mother, so why did the son find it so hard to accept this? Mother was becoming accustomed to it, so why couldn’t he? Why… did he crave Mother so much…?

“It.… It’s okay,” Licorice whispered out, finding his mouth quite dry; from the gasping breaths earlier or the shame of the sins he had committed, he was not sure. “It’s... okay.” Say that as he might, he could not help but feel hot tears slipping from the corners of his eyes and into his pointed ears.

The shaming guilt that had begun to eat at his heart was now chewing on his brain, and the young man soon found himself rolling onto his left side. He naturally curled his knees up to his chest like that of a child in the fetal position. His left hand tucked underneath his head to grip onto the covers and his right, black nails lightly dug into his chest. Steady streams of hot tears began to wash down his face – pink cheeks now becoming ruddy again, only this time from an emotion completely contrary to what he had experienced earlier.

The flame devil was wakened by a strange noise. Even with his golden eyes closed, he could faintly make out the sound of distant, muffled sobs. Was someone crying? His eyelids still quite heavy from sleep, Ivlis forced them open, allowing his eyes to become adjusted to his dark bedroom. He lie on his back, staring up at the ceiling for a few moments in silence, the only sounds heard being that of his own breathing and the light sobbing. Knowing it wasn’t ceasing anytime soon, and suspecting it was probably one of his children, Ivlis let out a light sigh as he pushed himself up. The feeling of another body towards his right gave him a slight startle, soon realizing that the sleeping devil next to his right should have been quite obvious. That explained his overt sleepiness. Even with his peaceful and quiet breathing, Ivlis knew just how rambunctious Satanick was when awake. Satanick never showed if he was wore out from such activities, but Ivlis secretly hoped he was. Why should he be the only one feeling the adverse effects of tiredness when Satanick was the one that brought him to such a state?!

Shaking his head to clear such trivial thoughts, Ivlis turned to slip out from beneath the bed covers. His long locks draped around his naked body, once more reminding him that he had fallen asleep shortly after the two demons had finished. Slightly clenching his teeth, Ivlis fully left the bed, his bare feet hitting the cool floor. At least this was somewhat cool in this world of flames. He quickly bent down to retrieve his black nightgown to slide it over his head. Gathering his long locks, he pulled them out of the confines of his nightwear. With his bedroom door slightly open – had he really left it open, or had Satanick when he had come over? – Ivlis cracked it open the rest of the way to slip into the empty hallway. Sliding his hand off the door’s wooden frame, Ivlis’s bare feet softly tapped on the floor. The crackling flames lined along the wall bathed the hall in a comforting glow, one that Ivlis had become accustomed to over the centuries. It was home, after all.

Getting closer to the other bedrooms down the hall, Ivlis could hear sniffling leaking through the closed door to Licorice’s room. In a strange way, Ivlis felt a bit responsible for this. After all, Licorice was the one that usually came to sleep with him at night, but tonight he hadn’t. Besides, Satanick had decided to come over. In a way, it was a blessing in disguise that the boy had not come to see him tonight. Ivlis found it a bit strange, but he did not question it much; he was a bit too tired to care about the details of that right now. All he knew was that Licorice was upset - probably from another bad dream. Lightly knocking on the door to alert the boy that he was coming in, Ivlis did not verbally announce himself. He turned the handle, softly cracking the door open to let the hallway light slowly flood into the room in a small slit. Peeking his head in, Ivlis called out softly, “Licorice?”

His eyes finally adjusted to the dark room, noticing the child curled up into a little ball, his own nightgown covering his body like a blanket. His usually large eyes were shut, but with how he was sobbing into his sheets, the occasional sniffle and light hiccupping sounds told Ivlis that the boy was surely awake. Cracking the door open even more, the slight creaking alerted the boy to his visitor. His little head lifted up, and his large, glassy eyes immediately met Ivlis’s. Seeing his child in tears filled the father with a sense of strange sadness. Yes, he had been a father for quite some time now, but he was still unsure what the appropriate thing to do was when it came to kids. Plus, Licorice was certainly different from the average child; though, he could say the same about Poemi and her penchant for “playing” with toys.

The boy let out a choked sob as he realized just who was standing in his doorway, and he whispered out a weak, croaked, “Mama.” The way he looked at him and said that title made it seem that the boy wanted to immediately run to him, yet he also felt a hint of distance in it. _Odd_ , Ivlis thought, but he shrugged it off. With a tiny sigh of his own, Ivlis pushed the door open a bit more to fully enter the room, making his way to the side of the boy’s bed. The boy once more buried his face into the middle of his bed. It was as if he did not want to see him right now – peculiar for the boy who was constantly looking for “Mama” all the time. Now up close, Ivlis could see a wet puddle there. Just how long had he been crying for? Ivlis’s heart ached at that speculation. Taking a seat on the edge, Ivlis reached out, gently placing his right hand on the back of the boy’s black hair. _Black just like his father’s…._

“Lico, what’s wrong?” Ivlis asked. He hoped his tone was gentle enough, as he was known to be quite a rude with how he spoke to others, especially in his exhausted state. That did not seem to matter to the boy, as he suddenly pushed himself up from his protective ball to fling himself onto Ivlis’s lap. The little boy’s hands gripped onto his nightgown as he buried his face into Ivlis's stomach. His small body lie across him like a doll – fragile; he looked so breakable and vulnerable in this state.

His heart aching at the sight, Ivlis now wrapped his arms around the shaking boy, who was openly crying harder and a bit louder, though muffled when he rubbed his tearful face into Ivlis’s abdomen. Ivlis placed his left hand on the back of his son’s head and the right one on his back, lightly squeezing him. He wasn’t quite sure what to say or what else to do in this situation. It wasn’t uncommon for him to comfort a crying child of his, but the flame devil still did not quite feel compassionate or skilled as he should be. But that wasn’t important right now; what mattered was comforting his distraught child. His fingers gently stroked at the boy’s hair, lightly shushing him. “Shh, it’s okay, Licorice. It’s okay.” When had been the last time Lico had cried like this that he needed such consolation? Probably not since he was an infant, now that he thought about it. Just what kind of dream had the poor boy had?

“M… Mama,” the boy hiccupped out between lessening sobs. “I – I’m sorry.”

Ivlis stared down at his small head, those curled purple horns atop his head the perfect combination of both parents. Ivlis did not immediately respond, simply content to continue rubbing the boy’s head as he held him close. He could feel the tears soaking through his own clothes now, becoming colder as time passed, but Ivlis did not mind. He would let the boy cry it out until he felt better. What he was apologizing for, he was not sure. “It’s okay, Lico. It’s okay.” That was all he could think to say to him.

“I – I don’t know what’s wrong with me, Mama,” the boy whimpered. “B – But I’m sorry. I feel bad, and I don’t know why.”

“It’s okay. Shh. It’s okay.”

Both demons seemed to be in the proverbial same boat – both did not understand why the boy was in such despair. It slightly bothered Ivlis that the kid couldn’t quite figure out why, or perhaps he wouldn’t say. Perhaps he really _didn’t_ understand.

Licorice really was a bewildering child to figure out.

Sitting there rhythmically stroking Licorice’s head, Ivlis closed his eyes, hoping to allow the silence of the dark room to calm both himself and the boy. He was unsure how much time had actually passed. Eventually, the raspy little sobs and gasps steadily died down until they became soft breaths of slumber. Still tired himself, Ivlis forced his eyes open once more to stare down at Licorice, whose grasping hands had loosened their hold on him. His head lolled back slightly as he now faced upwards. It was amazing that the same child that had been bawling his eyes out a few moments earlier now looked as if he was sleeping peacefully, the only trace that anything had occurred being slightly wet eyelashes resting across his cheeks and the circular wetness on Ivlis’s dark nightgown.

Thinking it was time for Licorice to hopefully rest blissful on his own, Ivlis prepared to slide out from him, though he noticed a slight movement in the doorway. Not quite startled like before, Ivlis was still slightly surprised to see Satanick standing there. The man leaned his right shoulder against the doorframe, arms crossed over his open dress shirt, only slightly crinkled from sleep. A look of concern caused his usual cheery face to remain stoic as he looked on. He did not speak, yet Ivlis knew he noticed him looking at him as he soon locked eyes with the other.

Still a bit hesitant around Satanick, Ivlis turned his gaze away from him to look down. How long had he been standing there? Well, he supposed that did not really matter; he clearly had seen enough. Letting out a steady breath, Ivlis carefully slid out from underneath Licorice, holding the boy steady to place him back onto his bed in a more appropriate position with his head resting on a pillow. The white object seemed so big in comparison to the size of the boy’s head. Standing there for a moment to look down at him, Ivlis pondered what the boy was so upset about.

A soft rustling at the door had Ivlis looking over his right shoulder, his long hair moving across his back. Satanick was now standing straight, arms uncrossed, and his right hand extended towards him. He still did not speak lest he disturb the sleeping boy. Knowing Satanick was silently inviting him back to bed had Ivlis’s heart pound a little bit in his chest. He honestly did not feel that Satanick would force anything more tonight, but he still found his body naturally reacting. Turning back to face Licorice, Ivlis still found him soundly asleep, which he was grateful for. A quick scan of his still form satisfied the flame devil enough to turn on his heel right back into the waiting invitation of the Pitch Black devil. As if on instinct, Ivlis raised his left hand, softly slipping it into Satanick’s. That seemed to surprise even him, whose violet eyes widened a bit at Ivlis having so easily accepted such a simple thing. The corners of Satanick’s mouth curved upwards a bit in a soft smile. He lightly tightened his long, porcelain fingers around Ivlis’s red, scaled ones, gently leading him out of the room.

Being the last one to exit, Ivlis gave one last look backwards towards their son. He hoped that the mild clicking of the door closing would not disturb his slumber, and he prayed that whatever plagued Licorice would not haunt him for much longer. 


End file.
